


Legacies

by CelestialMoonDragon



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, F/F, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, V is Not Part of Vergil, Witch!V
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23166961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialMoonDragon/pseuds/CelestialMoonDragon
Summary: The post-DMC5 fic where V's character doesn't get erased for no reason, Nero doesn't lose the family he didn't know he had, Dante and Vergil grow up, Nico gets to be the rocking lesbian she deserves to be and the other ladies get to be actual characters.
Relationships: Kyrie/Nico (Devil May Cry), Lady/Trish (Devil May Cry), Nero/V (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 116





	1. Prologue

**May 1st - Early Morning**

Silence lay like a blanket over the old graveyard, broken only by the chirping of crickets. The world felt washed out, dull brown and duller grey broken only by bright red roses atop sickly-looking stems. The pale moonlight did little to actually illuminate anything. A few nocturnal animals were the only things moving around. Suddenly, a dull thump and a clatter echoed in the silence.

"Fuck!"

Something large blocked out the moonlight for a moment, diving down to catch a mouse as it startled away from the noise. Ozone filled the air as lightning struck several other fleeing rodents. The creature banked a bit, chucking it's small victim away. The helpless mouse shrieked as it hit a headstone. A large bird landed on the grave in a flutter of powerful wings. It was the size of a condor, with a frame to match but covered in blue feathers.

"Hehehe," it cackled, "Miss something there, V?"

A young man growled in frustration, brushing dark hair out of green eyes. He rolled slightly, hand out and began to run it along the ground. The shadows around him began to boil, rolling like a turbulent sea before they coalesced into a large black panther. She huffed around the silver cane in her mouth and padded over to the man. He smiled slightly, giving her a head rub as if she were just a housecat. She butted against him and he laughed. Getting the cane under him and bracing against her weight, the young man pulled himself back to his feet. The panther brushed out a paw that stretched unnaturally far to knock a rock back away from her companion.

"Yeah, you get that rock, Shadow," the bird rolled his eyes, "Doesn't help much if he's already tripped over it."

The cat ignored him, leaning into V for more head scratches. The young man obliged but turned to speak to the bird,

"Did you see anything, Griffon?"

Griffon shook himself, wings coming out briefly to rebalance on his perch.

"Nah," he said, "Doesn't seem to be much growing here at all. Certainly not any yarrow. Why do old books have to be so vague, anyway?"

"Presumably," V replied, stepping forward slowly and carefully in the dark, "So that strangers can't steal their secrets."

The bird took off, circling around the human as the panther prowled ahead of them.

"Yeah, but 'everlasting love upon the marks of the dead?' That took _weeks_ to figure out and we don't even know if it's _right_!"

"No, we don't," V sighed, "But we are being paid a great deal to figure it out."

The three companions continued in silence for several minutes but saw nothing besides faded graves and dilapidated buildings. V could feel his legs growing more unsteady as the minutes passed by. It had been a really long trip just to get to this graveyard but V didn't want to take his chances with one closer to town. People tended to ask questions when they caught other people lurking in graveyards at 3 am.

This particular cemetery was not city-owned and had been left to rot with the rest of the expensive property when a house fire had destroyed the family who owned it. The locals believed the whole place haunted and wouldn't come near the place, even to tear it down. V had come across many rumors about the place, everything from there being surviving children to the belief that the owner had been some kind of immortal. V didn't know if there was any truth to any of them and he honestly didn't care enough to check. All he needed was yarrow grown on a grave to test whether it was the correct ingredient for the fertility potion he'd been asked to translate.

Not that he'd ever give the sleazy old man who'd hired him a working fertility potion. The old creep had been too pompous and too busy trying to seduce him to realize that V had explicitly only included the actual translation of the potion in their contract. Let him spend months trying to find another legitimate witch and explain to them that his doctor wouldn't let him take Viagra anymore. No self-respecting coven would touch him and the more dubious ones would be more likely to poison or blackmail the geezer then regularly supply him with fertility potions. Brewing it himself would do him no good, unless he wanted to poison himself. Either way, V wouldn't have to deal with the old man trying to cop a feel.

"Why take this job, V?" Griffon fluttered down next to him, perching on a crumbling bench, "That old sleaze ain't worth it. I'm gonna peck his eyes out if he tries to grope you again."

“Unfortunately, rent and food is rather a priority. And doctor visits aren’t cheap either. And he’s paying a lot for just a translation.”

“Yeah, that bout of bronchitis last year did a number on you. But he thinks he’s getting more than that, ain't that right?” Launching himself back into the air, Griffon circled around, “That pervert’s gonna be pissed when you refuse to make him that potion?”

V rolled his eyes, trudging tiredly around another broken tombstone.

“What’s he going to do? Sue me? The contract only specifies the translation and he’ll never go to court and admit he asked for a _fertility potion_ from a _witch_ because he couldn’t get it up.”

V looked around. He’d hoped that the lack of tending would leave any plants to grow wild but nothing seems to have survived except the thorny dark rose bushes that seemed to be everywhere. He was dusty and tired and dawn would be coming soon if the growing light on the horizon was any indication. He was hungry. He wished he’d brought a thicker coat. He opened his mouth to tell Griffon-

Power burst across the graveyard in a wave, dark and angry and _hurting_. V stumbled, head ringing, but managed to reach out to Shadow. She formed in a battle stance, angry red lines glowing in her flesh. Griffon yelped, similar glowing marks in blue flaring across him as well. V crashed down to the ground as a second but more familiar menace woke in his head. He gently pushed it back down, humming gentle lullabies in the back of his mind. The overpowering force dissipated, still calling to them all, an invisible menacing threat that even ordinary humans could feel. Griffon flapped down, hunching against V as Shadow guarded their backs.

“Oh, boy!” he whispered, uncharacteristically quiet, “That’s some powerful demonic energy. Something’s real upset over there.” 

He nodded ahead of them, where the looming shadow of a crumbling mansion stood in the distance. V really didn’t want anything to do with whatever had caused that explosion of menace but he couldn’t help but think about the gnawing sense of regret and pain and _fear_ that had come with it. Something was hurt and afraid and lashing out because of it.

Slowly, he stood up. Nothing else was moving and even the crickets had become silent. His familiars had both stopped glowing but stood ready to defend him still. He took a step forward.

“Uh, V?” Griffon asked, “Where are you going?”

V shook his head, still slightly dizzy, but determined,

“Something’s wrong,” he breathed, “That kind of pain doesn’t happen all at once.”

“Who cares?” squawked his companion furiously, “If we go near that thing, _we’ll_ end up in a lot of pain.” 

V hobbled forward and Shadow followed. She shifted, turning into a small wall in front of him. He stroked the wall as if it were the back of her cat form as he maneuvered around her. She shifted silently back, padding determinedly next to him. She’d accepted his decision. Now all he had to do was convince the loudest of his companions. 

“This ain't a good idea, V,” Griffon repeated, “Whatever that was is way too powerful for us to even think about handling.”

Still, the bird kept up with him, darting forward and back. He looked like a vulture circling its prey. V had always found the implied threat to be more reassuring then he was probably supposed to, but he’d met his familiars in rather poor circumstances and liked the reminder that they were far more intimidating than any human hoped to ever be.

The three of them crept slowly toward the old house, eyes peeled for any hint of movement. The menace in the air grew as they got closer, a choking miasma of anger that pressed against V’s empathy and made it hard to breathe. Shadow and Griffon grew tenser and tenser until the only obstacle left was the overgrown but very open front lawn. The once-manicured space had only thick, waist-high weeds and absolutely no tree coverage. Shadow growled softly, sinking against the earth and reforming beneath his feet. He let her, crouching as low as possible. Griffon flew up, disappearing in the dark of pre-dawn. Hopefully, he would be high enough to escape detection while still remaining their lookout. 

Shadow rushed forward, carrying V with her. He glanced around although he could see little and tried not to get lost in the wonderful feeling that always came with riding Shadow. He was free, unburdened by aching hips and knees and feet. The only feeling that compared was Griffon’s strong grip on his wrist as the bird lifted him into the air, although that tended to put strain on both of their bodies. The supernatural healing that he gained due to their demonic power only helped so much and did not make him immune to diseases either. Perhaps it would have for a healthy human, but V had been sickly all his life.

The manor walls grew larger and larger and before he knew it, he and Shadow were tucked safely against them. There were several massive windows along the front but V stayed out of sight. Griffon landed silently on the busted trellis that made an arch over the front door. It had probably been beautiful once, covered in sweet-scented flowers, but stood now as forgotten as the rest of the house. The demonic taint was overpowering and V had to take a few moments to just lean against the wall and center himself.

A roar pierced the silence, starting as something human and morphing into something deeper and decidedly _not_. Whatever it was moved in the house, something large brushing against the floor and roaring again. Something cracked, sounding like bones breaking. V tucked himself even smaller, pulling Shadow almost into his lap. Griffon tumbled, landing in a heap on the ground and scrambling inelegantly under the windows to them. In the back of his mind, Nightmare stirred for a second time, ready and eager to challenge any threat to their wellbeing, but V knew that even the golem would pose no threat to whatever lurked in the house and would do nothing but ensure their discovery. Ruthlessly, he pushed his mightiest protector back down. 

V was not a praying man. No god had ever come down from on high and protected him. His only true friends had come from a more sinister source. Even so, he found himself wishing that anyone who cared to listen wouldn’t let his stupidity and _damned_ curiosity be the end of neither him or his beloved companions. 

A crash sounded in the house, kicking up dust. They watched as the front door crumbled. V hoped they were far enough along the wall that they wouldn't be noticed. Something _huge_ stepped out and stumbled away, radiating malice like nothing V had ever felt. V stayed silent, barely even breathing, until even the hint of power from that demon had faded away. They must have sat there for over an hour as dawn had truly set in. The splash of bright light and vibrant color seemed terribly out of place with the horror that had happened tonight.

V slumped into a heap, panting heavily. Shadow rubbed against his chest even as Griffon groomed anxiously at his hair. He let himself bask for a few moments, comforted by the reassuring weight of his companions. Eventually, he propped himself up and slowly, laboriously pulled himself to his feet for what felt like the hundredth time tonight alone. He was exhausted, arms and legs shaking nearly uncontrollably. 

Fortunately, the front door already lay open.

“V!” Griffon hissed, “What the hell are you doing? We need to get out of here! What if that demon comes back?”

"Whatever happened," he panted, "We need to know. That _thing_ is a threat."

"Which is why we should _get out of here_!"

"We must know," he repeated, limping into the foyer, "There are too many innocents to ignore it."

The rising sun only highlighted the damage and neglect of what must have been a beautiful estate once. Debris and dust covered every surface along with burn marks and soot. The whole place smelled like rot and whatever animals moved in after it's residents left. V could hardly take a breath and had to struggle not to cough. That would only make it worse.

The foyer led straight into a large sitting room with a huge fireplace at the opposite end. The walls were scorched and the couches mostly rotted. A faded and burned painting dominated the room. He couldn't help but stare at what must have been a gorgeous work of art in its prime. 

Shadow growled, back arched and tail swishing in agitation. Griffon flapped forward, coming to a stop in front of the fireplace. 

"Look, V!"

V walked up. The ground was disturbed almost directly in the center of the room. Still-drying blood was smeared across the floor, mixing with the existing dust and soot. Something sat in the middle of the mess, glowing weakly. Whatever it was, it radiated the awful emotions he'd felt in the first pulse of power. 

V reached for it.

"Hey, wait!" Griffon yelled, "V, don't you fucking touch-!"

_Betrayal_

_He was 8 and the house was on fire. He screamed for mother or father but no one came except for horrifying monsters that he fled from._

_Determination_

_If he was the strongest demon then no one could ever hurt him or his brother again._

_Pain_

_He'd failed and lost. Now there was only the feeling of being torn apart and put together according to the will of another. He would not succumb-_

_Fear_

_He was free now but so powerless. His memories were a weakness and his human fleas a hindrance. He must rid himself of everything holding him back._

"V! Hey, V!"

He groaned. His body felt painfully stiff and his head was too full of someone else's trauma. He choked on a sob and tried to curl up but it hurt too much. He could feel the hard floor and flaking blood soaking into his clothes and hair. A solid, warm weight was pressed against his back, kneading softly along his spine. The sun was too bright. He turned his face away from it.

"V! Get your face out of that grime and blood!" Griffon waddled next to him, "Breathing that shit can't be good."

V felt reality slowly filter in. He tried to push himself off the gross floor but couldn't find the strength to do it. The vibration at his back abruptly stopped as Shadow sunk down and under him. The floor disappeared, replaced by the buzzing shape of her cat form. It had been a long time since he'd been so weak that she had to carry him. Riding her like a horse had been a highlight of his childhood games but resentment of his weak body often made him too stubborn to take what he felt was the easy way as an adult.

Right now, however, he was far too exhausted to protest.

"What happened?" he mumbled against her fur.

"What happened?" Griffon shrieked, "What happened is you touching something I told you explicitly _not to_!"

V mumbled again, hiding himself away from his friend's deserved wrath. The bird grumbled a bit more but lowered his voice,

"That weird crystal did something and you collapsed."

He gestured over toward the ground. V could see the glint of a large blue stone of some kind. It still projected emotion but it seemed to have dissipated some with the forceful injection of its trauma into V's mind. He managed to struggle his coat off and throw it over the glowing shard.

"It's too dangerous to leave," he said, "We'll ward it when we get home."

Griffon continued to grumble but obediently gripped the coat and crystal in one great claw. V felt Shadow turn toward the door as the other took flight.

"You'll bathe and sleep first," he continued to nag, "And then we'll ward it. What do we do with it after that?"

V sighed, already falling asleep atop his companion's back. The situation was rough and would only get worse. They couldn't fight this threat alone. The strange being's discarded memories bounced around in his head and he only had one solution.

_Dante_

**J** **une 5th - Afternoon**

Clawing his way up Urizen's dying form was the single most exhausting thing V had ever done in his life. Shoving Vergil's memories and humanity back into the demonic body that remained hurt even more. The resulting explosion threw him back and he slammed hard into the ground. He was vaguely aware of Vergil leaving and Dante arguing with Nero. The older man left, chasing his brother, and V felt the younger come over to where he lay.

"Hey, V," he said. V managed to open his eyes enough to see the other man. The poor guy looked just as beat up and run down as V felt. 

"You look like shit, Nero," he blurted, earning a laugh. He laughed weakly back but it hurt his ribs too much to do it for too long.

"Why did Dante leave you here?" he asked. Nero shook his head, making a disgusted noise.

"Vergil's my father apparently," he growled, "And Dante thinks I shouldn't have to kill him."

"So I was right," V murmured, "Good to know."

"Wait-you knew?" Nero exclaimed.

"How many people do you think have that white hair?" V asked incredulously, "It's a pretty distinct family trait. There were only two options as far as I could tell and Dante acts like the fun uncle."

Nero snorted,

"Yeah, fun uncle Dante. That will take some getting used to."

Nothing was said for several minutes and V thought they must have looked a sight. One skinny black-clad man flat on his back while a second man with a robotic hand crouched next to him. He tried to pull together the strength to at least sit up but even get teeth ached. Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare were vibrating in his consciousness, putting all of their considerable strength into healing what was probably several broken bones.

"What happened?" Nero mumbled, not looking at V. V wasn't cruel enough to pretend he didn't know what he was being asked about.

"I came up Vergil when he was very afraid and very close to dying. He took the Yamato so that he could separate the thing he viewed as a weakness."

"What weakness?" Nero asked, "Dante said the sword could separate man from devil."

"Exactly," V said, "Demons and Devils don't experience trauma the way humans do. It's why they are such psychopaths to our view. They are not taught 'right' and 'wrong'. Only power matters in their moral code. The only known exception is Sparda and how and why he turned to a protector of humanity is lost to time."

Nero tilted his head,

"What about your familiars? They seem pretty keen on protecting you."

V didn't respond for a moment. He could see Nero's point in a certain light but a philosophy debate is not why he brought the subject up.

"Perhaps they _can_ be taught. I don't truly know," he agreed, "But the point is that Vergil sees his humanity as the source of his traumatic memories. His demon half wouldn't be bothered by it. I won't tell you details because I have no right but your father has no shortage of trauma."

"That doesn't excuse what he's done," said Nero, "And it doesn't tell me how you got involved."

"We did get off track," he coughed, "I found his 'humanity,' for lack of a better term, in the form of a crystal. Memories make us who we are, even the awful ones. I don't think Vergil intended to essentially kill himself. I originally intended only to keep and ward the crystal until I figured out exactly what happened. But I underestimated it."

"How?"

"Everything wants to live. Demons, humans, plants, animals. Everything is hard-wired to want to survive. Vergil's humanity, which was the collection of memories that shaped him, wanted that too." 

Nero shifted, thinking for a moment. He fell backward onto his ass and rearranged his legs to sit cross-legged by V's head. V tried again to sit up and finally managed it, although Nero had to finish pulling him up. His torso still ached but his demonic companions seemed to have healed the cracked ribs he probably got from getting tossed away. He could feel them moving to work on his legs, their magic flowing like a tiny babbling brook down his body. Nero gripped his shoulder gently and shifted to lean together. V tucked his head under the other man's chin and tried not to get distracted by how nice it felt.

"So they latched onto you?" Nero asked, "They had to be remembered, right?"

V was surprised that Nero understood so quickly but he realized he shouldn't be. If there was one thing he had learned over the last month, it was that Nero was much smarter than his jock appearance and attitude implied.

"Yes," he breathed against Nero's throat. The other man shivered but V didn't notice.

"Warding the crystal so that it didn't consume me completely is what has sapped my strength so much. I also had to keep its presence secret. I could not be sure how Dante would respond to his brother in such a vulnerable state as I only had Vergil's memories of the man. Urizen himself wasn't really Vergil but just a hollow shell that only wanted power, although he didn't remember why."

"Why not-," Nero hesitated, "Why not just destroy it and let Vergil die?"

"It was an option," said V, "But Urizen would still be a threat. Nothing but death would stop him. And...and it seemed cruel to kill him so. He essentially killed himself accidentally and that's not something most people get the chance to come back from. I knew that I might not have gotten the chance to reunify him but it seemed a risk worth taking since Urizen had to be stopped either way."

"You're a good guy, V," Nero said, rubbing his hand up and down V's shoulder, "Do you still have his memories?"

V opened his mouth to answer but stopped. He'd spent the last month placing and replacing wards in a desperate attempt to stop the horrible memories trying to swallow him whole. Some days he failed and spent hours sobbing and shivering as invisible knives flayed the flesh from his bones. Other days, he found himself talking as if they were his memories instead. Like the time he and Nero found that destroyed playground and he'd talked about playing in it right before Red Grave was attacked the first time. The memories had been needy and overwhelming but he could feel them sliding away like water now.

"The details are fading, I think," he confided, "Like a movie. You remember the plot but maybe not every scene."

Nero hummed but said nothing. He was still stoking V's arm and the witch found himself trying not to nod off. Sleeping now would be far too dangerous.

Underneath them, the Qliphoth rumbled ominously. The distant sounds of cracking reached their ears.

"Time to go," Nero said, standing up. V made to follow suit but yelped in surprise when Nero reached down and _picked him up_ with what appeared to be very little effort. He clutched the white-haired man's shoulders and tried to kick away but his legs seized in pain instead. Nero let him grit his teeth in silence for a moment before grinning grimly.

"Sorry, man, but I think this is the only way we're both getting out of here alive."

He adjusted his grip slightly and took off like a shot. The bouncing of his injured body made V almost pass out but he concentrated on breathing instead. Most of the trip down the Qliphoth was lost to him and he came back to awareness when Lady buckled him as securely as possible to one of the back seats in Nico's can. They appeared to be careening down the Qliphoth. She patted his shoulder and turned to help Trish argue with Nero.

"We have to help!" he yelled. Trish and Lady tried to tell him that killing Vergil would hurt him more than he expected it to but the young devil hunter was determined to leave.

"Nero!" V said.

"You can't stop me!" 

"Nero," V repeated, gesturing him closer, "I don't intend to. You have as much right as Dante to confront the man. But let me give you this."

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Nero took it.

"What is it?"

"A spell," V told him, "You'll need to carve it into the top of the Qliphoth. The bigger, the better. I've spent the whole month crafting it. It's essentially demon plant weed killer. It will burn the Qliphoth away all the way to the roots in the demon world. Once it's no longer coming through the portal, Yamato should be able to seal it easily from this side. Otherwise, someone would have to take the Yamato to cut the tree and seal it from the demon world side. I intended to perform the spell myself but I can't in this state. You and Dante, however, should have the power to spare."

Nero nodded seriously, tucking the paper inside his jacket. He looked around for a moment. Lady and Trish looked ready to argue again but both chose not to. Nico was yelling profanities from the front seat. V was slumped sideways along the seat, legs and hips buckled to prevent them from being jostled as much as possible. His whole family was here, besides Kyrie who was safe at home and the two assholes probably beating each other to pulps at the top of the damned demon tree. He nodded again and leapt back out the cab door. V, Trish, and Lady watched him go before the two women looked at V. He looked back,

"I think I'm going to pass out now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? A couple of notes: V's hair doesn't turn white when he summons Nightmare. I love it but couldn't think of an explanation (besides his canon reason) that didn't sound stupid. Similarly, his familiars aren't connected to Vergil either because I wanted him to have had them for a long time. The game happens as canon (because I didn't want to rewrite the whole thing for what would amount to minor dialogue changes) except V tells Trish the story of part one. V does weaken as time passes like canon but with less flaking. And then part two is the changes to the ending of the game.  
> Also, the wiki lists Griffon as hawk-sized but he looks much larger??? Has anyone else noticed that? His wingspan is wider than V's arm span.  
> 


	2. Chapter 1

**June 1st - Evening**

V jolted awake, banging his head on whatever was behind him, and had no idea where he was. After a few seconds, the last couple of days came back to him. He could feel the familiar leather seats and purring engine of Nico's ridiculous van. The windows were dark. The sun must have set. He was still tied down by several seatbelt straps wrapped across his legs and propped up by the armrest. Lady and Trish were crammed in the seat at his feet, glaring at something across the van and whispering. He could hear Nico and Nero chatting in the front seat. On the other seat, Dante reclined reading a magazine and-

Huh.

Vergil sat leaning against his knees and looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

"Huh," he repeated. The other people, including Vergil, all stopped and turned to look at him. 

"Sleeping Beauty's awake!" crowed Dante. Nero leaped out of the passenger seat and leaned between the cab and the rest of the van.

"Are you ok?" he asked frantically. V took a moment to answer, rotating his wrists and shoulders and even wiggling his toes.

"Tired," he confided, "But I believe the worst has healed."

He reached down to untie the seatbelts and Nero lent down to help.

"You have two arms," V blinked in surprise, "How on Earth did you manage that?"

Nero turned red and Dante laughed,

"Kid activated his Devil Trigger. The accelerated healing _regrew his arm_. And then he kicked our asses."

The legendary devil hunter flapped his magazine in Vergil's direction. His brother sneered at him but didn't dispute the claim. Nero tried to hide a proud flush, nervously detangling the seatbelts around his ankles.

"You should have seen it, V," the young man said, "Both of them flat on their asses. Then they decided to _nobly_ _sacrifice themselves_ to sever the fucking tree. I think they just wanted a chance to fight more. Should have seen their faces when I pulled out your weed killer spell."

"Glad I could help," he said, smiling at Nero, who flushed even brighter. Dante cackled in the background,

"Vergil refused to believe it would work. Had to check it himself."

"It is…" Vergil said reluctantly, "A surprisingly well-constructed spell for someone your age."

Everyone blinked at him for a moment. V got the impression that he hadn't bothered to speak at all so far.

"Hah!" Dante smacked him, the magazine still in hand, "That was almost a compliment!"

Vergil sneered at him. His grip tightened on Yamato, which was propped on the floor next to him. Dante didn't appear to notice but Lady and Trish stiffened.

"Cut it out!" Nero ordered, "Dante, stop aggravating him. Vergil, V is the reason you _still exist_ so try to be a little thankful."

V noticed that Nero didn't call him father. He suspected that it was a title that the older half-demon brother would have to earn, if he even bothered to try. He reached forward, gently helping V turn his stiff body in the seat. It hurt a bit but getting his feet back onto the floor was a relief. His loyal familiars were resting themselves and likely wouldn't be able to manifest for several days. They had put everything they had into helping maintain his wards, fighting against the countless demons and finally healing him. He sent them all the gratitude and love he felt. Griffon grumbled and fell back asleep. Shadow purred and joined him. Nightmare rumbled and sent back an emotion that felt like waking up after a good dream before the golem wrapped themself around their smaller compatriots and joined their well-deserved nap. 

Now the only thing left was to find his cane. He glanced around and spied it sitting on Nico's workbench, secured with a bunch of her tools. Summoning it was beyond him right now and he didn't care enough to try walking to get it. Besides, the others were here and Vergil was too smart to try anything with so many willing opponents in the same place.

Nero finally stopped hovering, taking the seat next to him. The conversations amongst the others seemed to have stalled as everyone in the van did their best not to look at anyone else. Dante flipped through the magazine again but gave up so that he could eye V,

"Now that that's all over, why the alias?" 

"What?" V blinked at him.

"Your name. V," he gestured at the witch, "I assumed originally that you did it to annoy me." 

V continued to stare. Out of all the obfuscations and outright lies he'd told this group, that was one thing he didn't expect to get confronted on.

"What?" he said, "That's my _name_. Or at least the first initial."

Trish laughed,

" _Really_? Please tell me your name is not also Vergil."

The whole van cackled, even Nico in the front seat. Vergil himself didn't seem to find it funny but V suspected very little made the man actually laugh.

"No!" he snapped, "If you must know, my given name is _Vitale_ , which is hard to explain and difficult to spell so I don't use it."

"Vitale," Nero repeated, a strange tone in his voice, "I think it sounds distinguished."

"I'll bet you do!" Nico hollered. Nero blushed furiously and V had the sense that he'd missed something important. Dante and Lady were rolling their eyes and Trish smirked at him. Even Vergil looked amused, if the slight upturn of his mouth was any indication. Nero refused to look at him so he patted the other man's shoulders and moved on.

"I know I have hidden much from you all," he stated, "And I do regret the deception. But you are strangers to me and I didn't know if I could trust you to share my goals."

"Your goal to reform Vergil, you mean?" Lady snorted, "For some reason."

V braced himself to defuse the tension but found he didn't have to.

"Why?"

Everyone stopped. Vergil was staring V down and the others were too curious to keep rehashing the 'for or against Vergil' argument that V assumed they'd been having for hours.

"Why reform me?" The man himself asked, "Why go through that amount of effort for a stranger?"

V couldn't tell him what he'd told Nero as Vergil would only see it as pity. So he prepared a different argument, one that he'd been trying to convince himself was the truth instead of the sentiment that motivated him when he'd first felt Vergil's fear and pain.

"Urizen was a threat," he replied softly, "A rabid animal with too much intelligence and too little reason. He was your demon half unchecked by your human sense of caution. Once he got the Fruit, he would have looked for something else. And then something else."

He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand tiredly over his face. Trying to explain the jumbled mess of emotions left by Vergil without telling the others too much about Vergil's private memories was beyond difficult.

"In truth, I didn't really know if you could be reasoned with any more than Urizen. But I couldn't leave your memories behind because they would have called to every demon and empathically sensitive human for miles. There was too much power there with no vassal to contain it. I couldn’t leave it. It seemed the easiest way to remove both threats."

"By making another one?" Lady sneered, "And why Urizen?"

"Dante's idea. 'Your reason.' I told him it was Vergil and he didn't want any of you to know, especially Nero."

Dante flinched under the ladies' hard stares. Nero just looked hurt. V leaned into him,

"I didn't actually know why, at first. Then I met you and it became rather obvious. He wouldn't have tried to hide it so much if Vergil was just your asshole uncle. I thought about telling you but a lot was happening and it seemed weird to bring up."

Nero huffed a quiet laugh. The ladies were furiously scolding Dante and Vergil had stopped paying attention to all of them.

"Where are you headed now?" Nero asked.

"I don't know," V admitted, "My shitty apartment got trashed by the tree. I'll need to try to rescue as much stuff as possible, but after that…"

"You could come back to Fortuna with me and Nico. Kyrie would love you."

V felt his throat closing. No one _wanted_ to stay with him. Shoving away the nameless emotions concerning Nero he'd been ignoring since he'd first seen the grinning man in the fading sunlight a month ago, he tucked himself against the man,

"Your girlfriend? I bet she misses you." 

"Huh?" Nero asked, "Nah. We grew up together. We gave it a go but that was just desperation after the terrible events that led to the fall of the Order of the Sword. We love each other too much to pretend to be _in love_ , know what I mean?"

"Not really, no," V said, "I've never been in love."

Nero turned his head, setting his chin on V's hair,

"Well, I hope you experience it someday. Besides, Nico would kill me if I tried to take her girl."

"Damn straight!" The mechanic yelled, "I don't know how she tolerates you."

"It's my natural charisma!" Nero shot back, making V laugh. Dante snorted as well, finally free from the dressing down by the other women,

"We're all going back to Devil May Cry at the moment. It's on the far side of town so it should be undamaged. There's still a lot of clean up. Leftover demons and shit."

"The Qliphoth destroyed over half the city," Vergil said, "The death toll is extreme."

"And who's fault is that?" Lady snapped. Vergil looked at her but didn't bother to defend himself. He knew she wouldn't hear it from him. Unfortunately for her, V was willing to come to his defense,

"Not Vergil's," he said, causing everyone to look at him in surprise, "Urizen was formed from Vergil's demon half, yes, but none of his consciousness was present in that beast. I've been carrying his memory and his mind with me for a month. He has committed crimes, for sure, but he is not to blame for Urizen's decisions."

"And when he resurrected the Temen-ni-gru?" Lady asked tightly, "Is he not to blame for that either?"

Vergil's hand tightened on his sword again. V could tell that his willingness to reconnect with Nero and Dante was rapidly being outstripped by his pride.

"I was not present then," he met Lady's eyes, "So I can't judge. That is for you and Dante to debate. But I think we have all lost much, including Vergil, and rehashing who to blame for what is no way for anyone to move forward. And that is what we have decided to do."

"Besides," Dante admitted, "There were actually very few deaths because of the Temen-ni-gru. That part of the city was abandoned due to sewer flooding and the demons he sent out were after me. I'm not saying he did it on purpose nor that he cares but Vergil's actually killed almost no one."

Lady grit her teeth but seemed willing to let it go for now. Trish, V knew from Virgil’s memories, had been created by the same monster that first tore Vergil apart. He suspected that she would be willing to try, for that and Dante's sake, if Vergil afforded them the same courtesy. Whether the man planned to do so, V had no idea. The situation was so far beyond what anyone could have predicted that even V’s inside knowledge of that man could only go so far. The memories themselves were also still fading and V could only hope that they would continue to do so. If all he had left at the end was a general knowledge of what had occurred, V would count himself extremely lucky. Vergil’s trauma was a burden that V didn’t want, even if it had helped the whole situation end much better than it could have.

V had enough of his own problems.

**June 2rd - Morning**

Nero crawled grumbling out of Dante’s tiny shower. Not that he felt any cleaner as the bathroom he was in obviously hadn’t been cleaned in a decade. He honestly didn’t know how Dante managed to keep a business when the whole place smelled like stale pizza and dust bunnies. It was disgusting even to him and Kyrie and Nico constantly got onto him about ‘setting a good example’ for the kids.

He pulled a new shirt and pants from the hanger he’d left on the back of the door. The dirty, dark hallway outside the bathroom was quiet. They’d arrived last night and piled into Devil May Cry barely keeping their eyes open. Dante, as it turned out, owned the whole building, despite barely bothering to pay his bills. It had been a small hotel before he’d bought it and he’d never put in the effort or money to remodel the upstairs. This was lucky for them as it meant there were seven small but unused bedrooms available for them to crash in. 

Seven dirty as hell bedrooms but it was hard to care after the day they’d had.

V had fallen back asleep before they’d even arrived and Nero had carried him in. He tried not to think about how nice the summoner had felt in his arms. Or how much he wanted to trace the other’s tattoos with his tongue. Nico had laughed herself sick the first time he’d confided in her and threatened to tell Kyrie. Nero didn’t know why he let the two women tease him so much except that he loved them more than life itself. 

The events in Fortuna had been rough. The Order had controlled most of the social and economic systems on the island and its collapse had created an unprecedented recession. Nero had been tempted to take Kyrie and leave but he’d known she wouldn’t have let him. She loved the orphanage and other social programs she’d become involved in, including a homeless shelter and a youth center. So, instead, he’d thrown himself into whatever she asked him to do. 

His job had mostly been search and rescue at first. The out-of-control demons had destroyed a lot and he had the skills to stop them. That’s how he originally met Nico. She’d been getting herself in trouble looking for demon parts and wasn’t happy when he tried to rescue her. She was happy that he killed all of her dangerous suppliers though. Kyrie had let her stay with them on the spot and Nero had almost resented her for it. 

It took a lot of soul-searching and uncomfortable conversations between the three of them to realize what they all wanted. Nero and Kyrie grew up sheltered by the Order and Nico’s boisterous and unashamed nature shocked them. Meanwhile, they both were dealing with their feelings for each other. They knew they loved each other. It seemed right in the wake of losing everything that they would cling to each other. But both of them struggled with kindling the romantic relationship they felt obligated to have. Everyone left around them always said what a cute couple they made. It was easier, in the end, to let others define what they were supposed to be.

Nero resented Nico at first for the quick friendship she developed with Kyrie and, unknownst to him, she struggled with the fact she wasn’t actually attracted to him. They both unwisely ignored it, throwing themselves into working to support the citizens left in the Order’s destructive wake. It was hard, time-consuming work but the island slowly began to recover.

Nico was never pushy about her growing feelings for Kyrie but the other two slowly deteriorated. They fought often and resentment began to build. Two long years after the ‘Order Incident,’ as it became known, Nero had been certain Kyrie hated him. In truth, it had been Nico who first sat them both down and made them talk. She’d become a friend to them both and hated to watch them break up, even if she loved Kyrie herself.

Turns out, that had been the solution. Kyrie was a lesbian and Nero loved her but wasn’t in love with her. Many painful, awkward conversations later, the three became the wonder team they were today.

His phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He grabbed it and found Kyrie grinning at him from the screen.

“Hey, Kyrie,” he greeted.

“Nero!” she said and he tried not to grin helplessly at her cheerful tone, “Are you okay?”

“It’s been a long couple of days,” he admitted.

“Did it work?” she asked, “With your uncle and father?”

He couldn’t help but sigh. Vergil had shut himself into the first room he found after mocking Dante for the state of the building. Dante had been embarrassed, which surprised Nero, but he supposed that the man generally didn’t have guests past the business downstairs. Nico had pulled some spare sheets out of the van and made the older devil hunter beat out a mattress while Lady and Trish tried to clean one of the other rooms. He’d complained but conceded the point when she pointed out that V probably couldn’t handle getting ill right now. After, Nero had placed the still-sleeping witch inside and wandered off to find himself a room. 

“They’re both _alive_ ,” he said.

“Well,” she said, “That’s an important first step.”

He laughed,

“Yeah but I don’t know if either of them actually wants more than that.”

“I don’t know Vergil and I only met Dante once,” she said, “But I don’t think you could have stopped them if they were that determined to kill each other. We both know how easy it is to fall into a pattern of what you think you have to be.”

“I was just thinking about that, actually,” he admitted, “How is everyone there?”

He listened to her chatter about the kids and volunteers for a while. He couldn’t help the swell of pride, in her and him, when he thought about all the good they’d done. It occurred to him that maybe that’s what Dante and Vergil needed. That’d both been fighting demons their whole lives and fighting each other when they ran out of demons. Dante seemed to have no life outside of it, hanging here alone when he wasn’t on the job. Vergil had been who knows where doing who knows what but Dante had thought him dead for years so he couldn’t have been doing much. Maybe they needed something else to do and the rest would hopefully follow.

“Soooooo…” Kyrie sounded mischievous, “How about this V that Nico told me about?”

He groaned,

“I can’t believe she told you!”

“Of course she did. Is he cute?”

“He’s so classy,” Nero whined, “It's unfair. He’s classy and cool and stupidly pretty. And the tattoos…”

“The magic ones?” she asked, “That summon demons?”

“His familiars. The panther is cool and the golem is absolutely _massive_. The talking bird is a bit of a deterrent but at least he’s funny.”

“Nico said that the ‘little chickee’ really seems to care about him,” Kyrie replied and of course that’s the thing she latched on to.

“He does,” Nero couldn’t help but agree, “He’s fiercely protective of V. And not just physically, I mean. I get the impression that V doesn’t have a lot of close ties.”

“Well, maybe we can offer that,” she said.

“We?” he questioned.

“Of course. You don’t think I’d let you get away with making a friend without me, did you?”

“Of course not,” he laughed, “I...kind of already offered to let him stay? His apartment was under the demon tree anyway.”

“Oh, no! Is there anything left?”

“I offered to help him look as soon as we can but I don’t know how long it will take for him to recover. And there are a lot of demons left.”

“Yeah…” he could picture her nervously biting her lip, “About that…”

“No!” he exclaimed, “You promised to stay safe.”

“I know!” she cried, “But you and Nico are down there alone…”

He grunted in frustration,

“You agreed to stay out of danger!”

“I know. I couldn’t leave last month because of my job. But I’ve been working on that. Transferring duties and rearranging everything…”

“So you can do what?” he snapped, “Come down here with the monsters?”

“So I can help my family!” she yelled, “So I can be with you and Nico. And you have a _father_ and an _uncle_ . And all the people that died and got displaced. This is what I _do_!”

He tried to interrupt her but she was really mad now.

“Disaster relief is what I _do_ !” she continued, “It’s what I _love_. All those people with no homes and no hope. Half of them will fall through the cracks because they don’t know what to do or where to go! They’re all lost and alone and afraid and I can help them! I know I can’t fight demons but it's not just about that! It’s about the people that get left behind after they come tearing through and destroying everything!”

She finally stopped and Nero could hear her panting furiously on the other end of the phone line. He knew she was right. She usually was. He’d been so worried about the immediate demon problem that he failed to remember what got left behind, even though he’d already lived through it once. Red Grave was devastated. The government had already started to step in but they didn’t know the true gravity of the situation. They’d been calling what happened an _earthquake_ , for god's sake. Despite all evidence to the contrary, they claimed that an earthquake released pockets of hallucinatory gas and ignored all the people crying out about the demons. Even the military, according to the soldier on the bridge, was simply saying soldiers 'disappeared in unknown circumstances’.

Demons and demon world stuff faded when it was killed, bodies disappearing into dust, essences crystalized into Orbs that got absorbed by whatever demonic power killed them. Even the small remains got used, either eaten for power by other demons or cannibalized by the likes of Nico, who used them to make her weapons. Even Dante, who had no weapon crafting skills, convinced the defeated demons to serve him rather than perish.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I’ve been avoiding how much longer this might take. There are tons of demons that need killing. Trish and Lady will help but I don’t know if Dante and Vergil trust each other enough to leave them to it alone. And...I don’t want to.”

He stopped. He’d known the truth for almost twelve hours now but it seemed to only be hitting him now,

“I have a _father_ ,” he breathed, “The one thing I always wanted. And the man _ripped off my arm_. I don’t even know if he wants or cares to get to know me. And Dente _knew_. He knew he was my uncle and _didn't say anything for years._ ”

He choked back a sob. He slumped down on the musty mattress. When he’d made it back to his room, he wasn't sure, but his legs didn’t want to support him anymore. He curled up, phone pressed against his ear and the pillow, and let Kyrie’s voice soothe him as he sobbed in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support! Nothing much to say here. Except that I managed to work the game mechanics into the story without them sounding completely ridiculous and I'm very proud of that. Any opinions about who you'll want to hear about next? I'm thinking maybe Nico or Dante/Vergil but I'm struggling with their voices a bit so we'll see.  
> Also, does anyone know where the Vitale name started? It seems pretty much accepted headcanon but I like it and I'm curious.


	3. Chapter 2

** June 2nd - Noon **

The whole place really did look like shit. Dante swiped a hand across his desk and stared at the thick coating of dust covering his fingers.

When had it become like this?

He remembered first getting the building. He'd been so proud of himself. The Sparda estate didn't lack money, even before the insurance from the fire. Getting ahold of his half hadn't been easy since he refused to stay in the home that the city had tried to place him in but he'd managed it. Vergil's half was outside his reach and he only learned later that his brother had done the same. 

He looked around. The front room was messy. Dust covered every surface and several old, foul-smelling pizza boxes littered any flat space that they could fit on.

When had it become like this?

When had his pride faded? He had been so proud once. He had a business, his very own business, killing the monsters that had killed his mother and that, he thought at the time, killed his brother too. 

When had the pride and sense of accomplishment faded? After the Temen-ni-gru? After the horror that was the truth of Nelo Angelo? When did he get so damn old that he couldn't bother to throw away some pizza boxes?

"You're not  _ old _ , Dante," Lady snapped.

He startled, blinking dumbly at her and Trish. The two women watched him flail for a second, struggling to come up with one of his trademark witty one-liners.

"Heh," he said, "Guess a pair of old ladies like you two would know."

Trish snorted,

"You didn't even try that time."

The three watched each other for several long moments. They'd know each for a long time but emotional vulnerability was not exactly encouraged in their line of work.

"Look, Dante," Lady sighed, "None of us are old. Life is just harder than most is all."

It was the perfect out and they all knew it. Dante would give a joke and they would roll their eyes and everything would go back to normal. Except all he could think about was the moment on the Qliphoth when he'd told Vergil for the first time in their lives that he didn't care who won their never-ending fight. Seeing Nero planted like a tower between them telling them that they weren't going to fight.

When had the kid grown up? The kid had been nineteen when they'd first met and he'd seemed so young and angry. It had reminded Dante so much of himself and realizing he was in fact his nephew had been a painful kick in the teeth. Sometime between then and now, the kid had become a man powerful enough and brave enough to stand between the family that had been tearing itself apart long before he'd been born.

"Dante?" Lady asked, "Are you okay?"

"Just thinking," he admitted, "About life going on whether you want it to or not."

Suddenly determined, he began collecting pizza boxes and stacking them on his desk. His little trashcan wouldn't fit them all but the one out by the curb would. Lady and Trish just watched him. He rolled the big bin straight into the center of the room, chunking in every piece of trash he could find. Trish only moved to stop him when he grabbed the stupid little nameplate they'd bought him as a joke.

"Dante," she whispered, "What's wrong?"

What wasn't wrong? Red Grave was destroyed and hundreds died. Vergil was alive and still wanted nothing to do with him. His nephew had grown up and Dante hadn't had shit to do with it. His two best friends were mad at him, even though they were trying to hide it.

"I'm sorry-" he blurted, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Vergil."

"You should be," Trish said harshly and he struggled not to flinch, "We would have had a different strategy with him. Tactical weakness gets you killed. It almost got  _ all  _ of us killed."

"Wait, what?"

"I don't have you two's beef with Vergil," Trish rolled her eyes, "I only care that you withheld information that would have strengthened our position."

" _ I _ have beef with Vergil," Lady said, "But not for the reason you think."

It was Dante's turn to snort incredulously,

"Wait, you don't hate him for bringing about the death of your father?"

"Not any more than I hate myself or you for it," she snapped. The awkward silence stretched and she sighed again,

"What happened with Arkham was necessary. I hate it to this day but he brought it on himself and I don't blame anyone but him, not even Vergil."

She moved around Trish, who backed up, gripping Dante's shoulders and shaking her closest friend.

"I hate Vergil," she admitted softly, "Because every time he comes back, you start to  _ hope _ . You think that maybe this time will be different. Maybe he'll come back to you  _ this time _ . And he never does and every time you end up shattered from it. You're my  _ friend _ , Dante, and I hate to watch him tear you up."

"I'm not exactly blameless," Dante said, "I'm just as ready to fight as he is. I let him goad me into it every time."

"You do," Trish agreed, "Maybe that's why you both needed some family outside the feud to kick your asses."

"Hah," Dante laughed, "The kid wishes he could kick my ass!"

They laughed together, just like old times, and Dante felt a little less like his whole world had upended itself for the hundredth time in his life. Nero's impassioned bravery wouldn't be a deterrent forever and Vergil wouldn't stay meek and silent. But Dante found himself willing to try for the first time in years and could only hold tightly to the little speak of hope that said maybe Vergil was tired of their endless cycle of hate too.

First, however, he had to make Devil May Cry a place to be proud of again.

**June 2nd - Afternoon**

Vergil slipped out of the room he'd claimed once he felt Dante's energy leave the premises, along with both of his lady friends. The new but unexpectedly familiar energies of the meddling witch and the son he hadn't known existed lay undisturbed in rooms down the hallway. He refused to sneak around the building like some sort of thief but proceeded cautiously back downstairs. The stairwell opened into a small kitchen on the side and led straight into the reception area of Dante's 'business.' He wasn't sure how much of a business it could be when it looked like no one had taken a rag to anything in decades. Abandoned buildings were cleaner.

"Hey, Claudius!" yelled someone. The dark-haired, freckled girl that drove the excessively-large van they had all left the burning Qliphoth in walked up like she knew him.

"My name is Vergil," he pointed out. She couldn't be so stupid that she didn't know that, could she?

"I know, I know," she waved a hand, "Claudius is the Roman empire who proceeded Nero, although he was technically his great-uncle."

"Then your metaphor falls apart," he said, "And it was almost clever, too."

"And you were almost a human being instead of a complete asshole," she returned.

Vergil felt his blood boil. Dante had always been fond of mouthy brats but he would tolerate no such thing. Nero's interruption had been irritating but ultimately acceptable as he was family but this rude girl had none of Sparda's blood in her veins. He opened his mouth-

"Never mind that," she interrupted, " I came in to find Nero but you'll do."

"What?" he snapped.

She continued as if he hadn't said anything. She didn't really seem to care that they were having a poor interaction and his mind flashed back to the ride here. She and Nero had snipped and snapped at each other but there hadn't been any sense of real anger in the interaction. Is that how she was reading the situation now?

"Some of those damn demons sliced my tire up good," she continued, walking toward the front door. Vergil didn't want to follow her but that was the way he was going anyway. Her huge van was parked where she'd left it the night before on the curb in front of Dante's business. The van was dirty, with bloodstains splattered across it and the LED stylized logo appeared busted in some places. A collection of tools cluttered in front of one of the tires, which had rubber practically sliding off it. There was a crankable car jack as well but it seemed to be bent at an odd angle.

"See?" she gestured, "My Jack must of fallen off its mount during our crazy tree slide escape. "

He stared for a few moments, waiting on further explanation. When she just kept watching him expectantly, he couldn't help himself,

"Well? What do you expect me to do about it?"

She rolled her eyes, kneeling down next to the mangled wheel,

"Lift the van, dummy. I swear, I thought you were the smart twin."

Now it was his turn to stare. She insulted him and still expected him to help? He should just walk away like he'd been planning when he got up. Leave Dante and Nero, who acted more like Dante's kid than his own.

"C'mon," she cajoled, waving a wrench at him, "I know you can. I've seen Nero do it."

He should walk away. Leave this crazy girl and Dante's lady friends who hated him and that annoying witch who had carried his broken soul around for no reason and then  _ given it back _ .

He picked up the van. 

She whistled a bit at the sight but quickly set to work pulling off the tattered tire. He shifted a bit, getting a better grip on the back bumper and adjusting his footing. Yamato poked awkwardly and almost accusingly into his side. Staring at the tan brown side of a bloody can wasn't the most interesting thing in the world and tracing the scratches kept him from thinking about what he was doing.

He should leave. Travel again and find ways to get stronger. Dante had agreed that beating Nero meant that Vergil won but he didn't even seem to care when he had. Like it didn't matter who won. Like the thing they had been doing since the fire didn't matter. Their mother had chosen Dante as the better brother and he didn't even seem to care that Vergil spent every day after throwing himself into proving her wrong.

_ You tore off your own son's arm for power and you still lost! _

Seeing the boy that held Yamato with white hair hadn't really registered at the time as being important. He'd been too busy dying to care. And then he'd been nothing. There were vague impressions of being abandoned and found and wrapped up in a supportive web of power but he had no true memories of the time between stabbing himself and reforming at the top of the Qliphoth. Even the distant knowledge of Urizen's plan had been hazy and incoherent. Vergil wasn't even sure Urizen had had a plan beyond the fruit and wasn't just making a senseless grab for power, just like every other rabid, putrid demon out there.

"The question you gotta ask," said the girl, "Is why?"

"What?" Vergil turned to her, hoping and praying he hadn't been saying any of that out loud. But he was certain that he didn't and she was still concentrating on her van. She'd tossed the ruined tire aside and began to bolt in the new one.

"Why," she said, half muttering to herself, "Do demons got to splatter their ugly asses on my nice paint job? Why does Dante not clean his damned house? Why has Nero spent his whole life wanting a family and he got you two assholes instead?"

Vergil looked at her in surprise. She sat on her heels, steel in her hands and steel in her eyes. Vergil wasn't afraid of her. Killing her would be tragically easy but he admired the courage it took to confront him so boldly.

"I'm pretty sure I don't have to tell you how babies happen," he said. She snorted, looking away as she tightened the last nut.

"That was almost a joke. Okay, you can put it down."

He let the van drop, rolling his wrists and shoulders. She said nothing to him, gathering her tools and shoving the smaller one back into her tool belt. This would be the perfect time to slip away. No one would know until they went looking for him in his room.

"Hey!" she said, "You and Dante got history. I know that. And I'm not gonna stand here and tell you who's right because I don't know shit about what happened."

"You do not," he agreed, gritting his teeth. She nodded,

"But I know Nero. If he's willing to give you a chance, I trust him. But you weren't there when he was a kid. Maybe you didn't know. That sucks but it's fine."

She pointed the wrench at him again like she planned to stab him with it.

"But don't stay if you're planning on bailing when it gets hard," she met his eyes, "Nero survived without you. Hell,  _ Dante  _ survived without you. So either stay and help or leave and let everyone pick up the pieces." 

She stomped back toward Devil May Cry, still unafraid and talking like she had any real stake or right to an opinion,

"Now, I'm gonna go check Dante's hellish kitchen so we don't all die of food poisoning. Make a choice."

Vergil watched the door slam shut. He looked down the empty and poor lit street and back toward the girl's silly van. He looked up at the stars, faded in the city's pollution.

He went back inside. 

**June 2nd - Evening**

Dante stumbled down the street, arms full of more cleaning supplies then he knew existed before being dragged into the store by Lady and Trish. Both women held even more supplies, although both said it might not be enough. They spent hours chattering about replacing the furniture and outdated appliances, neither of which he'd bothered to do when he bought the place. The bedroom carpets would need to be steamed, if not completely replaced, if he expected anyone to live in them. He'd pointed out that Nero and Nico would be leaving and V probably had his own place, they'd rolled their eyes and told him that guest rooms were a thing.

Vergil had been a fastidiously clean child and he couldn't imagine that changing. Whether Vergil would stay was another matter but Dante didn't want to think about that or else his chest would start to cramp up. He'd have to order food soon because he knew for a fact that the tiny kitchen behind the front room didn't have anything in it except some beer. Morrison would also probably turn up in the next few days, now that the tree was gone, to see if he was still alive and inquire about the last will and testament he'd sent over before going to face who he thought would be Vergil. The broker didn't need to know Dante had set it up years ago and never sent it. But he'd been determined that this would be his and Vergil's last confrontation, one way or another.

He laughed, interrupting the other two and having to quickly rebalance his groceries so they wouldn't fall.

"What's so funny?" Lady grinned.

"Nothing," he said, "Just thinking about how I went in determined to face Vergil one last time. Looks like I got my wish."

They laughed with him again, although it was not entirely a happy one. The familiar smell of his favorite pizza place filled his nose. It sat just around the corner from Devil May Cry and Dante had been a loyal customer for years. Trish wanted to object, he could tell, but pizza was probably one of the only ways they'd get enough to feed everyone. He stepped inside, the familiar sound of Italian opera playing faintly over old speakers.

"Dante!" cried a heavy-set man in a flour-covered apron. Giovanni Rossi was every bit the stereotypical Italian pizza restaurant owner and he absolutely loved to ham it up as much as possible. That said, he also made the best pizza Dante had ever tasted, so maybe there was something to it.

"What is this?" he boomed, placing one thick hand over his chest, "What beauties have you brought before me? What visions of radiance have you blessed us with today?"

The two women giggled a bit. Trish was far more comfortable with flattery than Lady was. She struck a pose with her bags, pulling Lady in to stand next to her. Giovanni clapped, offering a low bow,

"Welcome to Rossi's Pizza, lovely ladies! How may I help you, even though you have dragged this ruffian in with you?"

"Hey!" Dante said, struggling not to laugh, "What happened to being your favorite customer?"

"You are my second favorite, Dante, for you have brought my new favorites in with you today!"

Lady nudged Dante, laughing at him. The little restaurant was deserted, except for two of Giovanni's sons cleaning tables and an old homeless man Dante was pretty sure slept here. Giovanni looked as happy as usual, although Dante could see the strain on his face. Red Grave had had a rough month. 

"Just wanted to check on you," he admitted, "I've been dealing with...things and I know the...earthquake has been rough for everyone."

"Yes," said Giovanni, a knowing glint in his eyes, "The earthquake has been rough even this far out. But I built this place with my own blood and sweat and the blood and sweat of my kin and no earthquake will make me leave it."

"That's what I thought you'd say," Dante avoided his eyes, "But reports say that there won't be anymore...tremors, although the buildings are still unstable so watch out."

"That is good news, indeed!" he smiled, "Now surely the great Dante, winner of my Most Pizza Bought in a Year Award for two decades straight is ready for a slice?"

"I'm not sure that's an award you should brag about," Trish teased Dante.

"Nonsense!" Giovanni said, "My pizzas are works of art. Dante is the richest man in the world!"

"In cholesterol, maybe," murmured Lady to the blonde, making sure the owner couldn't hear her. Dante could, of course, but that was the point. The devil hunter ignored her,

"I have an unexpected number of guests. Seven, including me. I know it's late."

"Nonsense!" Giovanni said again, "We're open for a couple hours yet and no one else comes in this late."

He gestured at the boys cleaning tables, neither of whom looked enthused about more work but headed obediently to the kitchen anyway. 

"Now, I know your favorite, Dante? What about you ladies? And will your son be joining you?"

"My what?" Dante almost screeched over the laughter of the women as they nearly fell over laughing at him. Giovanni looked surprised,

"Your son? He has your hair. And your attitude."

"Nero?" Dante squeaked, "He's my nephew. My brother's son."

Giovanni lifted his hand, cupping his own chest in pretend hurt and shock.

"Nephew? No!" he cried, "And you reveal to me now a brother I have not met? I thought we were family, Dante!"

Trish and Lady glanced at each other. It was clear the man meant only to tease but managed to step in Dante’s heap of Sparda family drama. After a few moments of tense silence, Giovanni seemed to understand that he had hit on an unexpected issue. His smile faded and his eyes grew serious. He looked ready to apologize.

“We’re estranged,” Dante blurted, “He didn’t know about Nero and Nero didn’t know about him. But things happened.”

Dante thought he probably shouldn’t be baring his soul to the pizza guy but Giovanni had seen him in many inexplicable situations over the years. He’d drunk-ordered pizza countless times and once the man had even stayed to make sure Dante didn’t choke on his own vomit. He’d caught Dante covered in blood and even climbing out of manholes with a sword strapped to his back. The man never judged him for it nor did he enquire as to the nature of Dante’s job. Unfortunately, the Qliphoth may have put an end to his attempts to keep the older man blissfully unaware of what lurked in the dark.

“This is a special occasion, then,” the Italian told him seriously, “You have the opportunity to right past wrongs and mend broken relationships. That is not something we get every day, hmm?” 

He tapped the side of his nose, smearing flour along one red cheek. Dante tried to hide an embarrassed flush.

“You will take these lovely ladies back home. Me and the boys will be by in about an hour with Giovanni’s Best, guaranteed to make any family night a good one!” he reached up and grabbed Dante’s shoulders, looking down at the bag conspicuously full of cleaning supplies, “It is good, when life gives you the opportunity, to change yourself for the better. Now go!”

He pushed them all out the door, turning to yell over his shoulder into the kitchen. The three hunters for hire stood looking at the grinning cartoon logo affixed to the front door. Eventually, the women began to pull Dante bach toward Devil May Cry. 

Some minutes later, they were placing the bags on the end tables in Dante’s front room. None of the other people were in the room but the door to the back was ajar. The quiet was almost enough to make a man nervous.

"Not there, damn it!" Nico's voice came from the door, "I can't fix the stove if I can't get to it!"

"I am not certain this thing can be repaired," someone replied. Dante and the ladies looked at each other. Was that Vergil? Having a civil conversation with Nico of all people.

"Me neither!" the mechanic cackled, "But it's fun to find out, yeah?"

Dante stuck his head cautiously into the kitchen as the girls moved upstairs. The sight in front of him was almost too much to believe. The stove had been pulled away from the wall and disconnected. Nico, the little grease monkey that she was, dug around in the back of it. Vergil stood, hip against the cabinet, on the other side watching her. 

"Is that supposed to be falling apart?" he asked. Nico grumbled without answering. Something creaked and she pulled out some wires, glancing up just enough to see him around Vergil.

"Dante!" she yelled. Vergil stiffened, glancing over his shoulder. Dante waved awkwardly and he snorted. Nico yanked out more rusted debris.

"The hell did you do to this thing?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, stepping into the tiny kitchen, "Place was like this when I bought it. Been abandoned for years after a failed attempt at a hotel or b&b or something."

"Is that why it looks like the 80s threw up in here? The only decent looking place is the front desk."

"Thanks," he smirked, "Remodelled that myself."

Vergil had been watching the conversation, stiff against the counter but rolled his eyes at Dante's smug response.

"And then let the whole place rot under the weight of its own dust?" he sneered.

Dante grit his teeth. He knew Vergil was just trying to rile him, trying to prove to himself that Dante was the same thick-skulled hothead so they could fall back into old patterns. The two twins had always been complete opposites in manner and behavior. Dante was loud, prone to explosive anger that burned away just as quickly. Vergil was quiet, preferring to let his temper fester into a grudge that lasted. Their mother had called them fire and ice but cautioned both of them to never let their anger hurt innocent people because they were bigger and more powerful than ordinary men. Father would laugh at her, pulling both boys into his arms and crowing about how strong they would become together.

It was a tragedy beyond reckoning that they never got that and the thought of the fun, happy childhood that was torn away from them both made Dante want to scream and cry even now.

Vergil looked shocked that he hadn't immediately risen to the bait and Nico watched both of them, hand gripping a set of pliers tightly.

"Never any reason to go into any of the other rooms," he replied as mildly as he could, not looking at either of them, "Didn't realize they'd gotten so bad. And I usually ate out."

Vergil's face clouded in either anger or disgust but Dante didn't feel up to playing their usual verbal dance so he looked at Nico instead,

"Don't worry too much about fixing that piece of junk. I'm gonna redo the whole place so that we aren't all living in shit while we try to clear out the rest of the demons leftover."

She eyes the busted and rusted stove for a moment before standing up and pushing the stove out of her way.

"You better start with the kitchen before Kyrie gets here. She loves to cook. And the dust needs cleaning before someone gets sick."

"Do we have time for that with all the demons?" Vergil asked. His tone was no longer snide or goading. It seemed like a genuine question and Dante didn't know what to do with the thought that his brother wanted to help him remodel like they were normal fucking people.

"Guess we're gonna find out!" Nico cheered, looking happier than a kid at Christmas, "C'mon! Let's get the others!" 

She pushed past both of them, running up the staircase. Dante and Vergil looked at each other in commiseration before remembering that they didn't get along and looking away. The front doorbell rang, startling them both. Dante looked at the wall clock before remembering that it broke years ago. He yanked out his phone instead.

The doorbell rang again. Vergil raised an eyebrow at him. Dante cursed and scrambled toward it as the bell rang a third time.

"I'm coming!" he yelled. Giovanni's boisterous laugh was loud enough to come clearly through the door. Trish and Lady came spilling back down the stairs, chatting with Nico about wallpaper colors. He finally made it to the door, throwing it open to reveal the grinning face of the Italian. The same two sons as before stood behind him, buckling under the weight of five pizza boxes each.

"Dante!" he cried, slipping past the devil hunter with familiarity. Dante backed up to let the kids inside behind him. Both rushed to set the pizza down on his desk as they usually did, which brought them past the imposing form of Vergil. He didn't really react to their hesitant greetings but Giovanni was not that shy.

"Hello!" he bellowed, "You must be the brother Dante has so cruelly hidden from me! And young Nero's father as well. Fine young man he is."

Vergil clearly didn't know what to do as the restaurateur enthusiastically shook his hand. He settled for a strained nod even as he pulled his hand away. Giovanni's grin dimmed slightly but came back full force as Lady distracted him by introducing him to Nico. He chatted with the women as Vergil all but ran to the stairs. He didn't get very far as something clattered and began to fall down the stairs, drawing everyone's attention. Vergil's foot shot out, stopping something it reached the base of the stairs. He reached down, grabbing a familiar decorated silver cane. In the sudden quiet, even V's voice seemed loud.

"Fuck," the witch exclaimed down the stairs. Nero's laughter followed after as the man himself appeared. He looked at Dante.

"Your stair railings are very unsafe. And carpeting the stairs would make them less slippery," he glanced around, "Oh, hey, Giovanni."

Dante tried hard not to laugh at his nephew's increasingly obvious crush on the witch. How V hadn't noticed was a mystery but until the boy got brave enough to tell him, Dante was going to enjoy it.

Giovanni tried to pull Nero excitedly over to his sons, aged 18 and 21 if Dante remembered correctly, even as the young man tried to resist, glancing anxiously over his shoulder. Dante couldn't see V yet but assumed that that was the source of his worry. Vergil moved up the stairs, cane extended. Whether he wanted to win brownie points with Nero or cared enough about his own debt to V to not let the witch die by tripping down the stairs, Dante had no idea but it let Nero relax enough to small talk.

Eventually, V managed to hobble down the stairs. He still looked exhausted and pain pinched his delicate features but he seemed lucid. His dark tattoos stood out against pale skin and although Dante could feel the demonic power of his familiars, it was banked like an ember and focused entirely inward. Dante wondered how many bones broke in his ordinary human body when Vergil reformed.

It took several more minutes of introductions and small talk before Giovanni's sons began to steer their father back out the door and the collection of demon hunters was left in awkward silence. Vergil didn't look enthusiastic about the pizza but looked through the options before attempting to flee upstairs with his choice.

"Uh-uh!" Nico caught him, "We're all eating down here. It's slightly cleaner and we need to make a plan about how we're gonna handle this."

She marched him back to the waiting area and everyone found places to sit. Nero sat next to V, who'd been graciously escorted to the nearest chair after Giovanni saw him struggling to stand in their introduction. Trish and Lady curled up together after throwing a pilfered sheet over the dusty couch. Dante sat at his desk, Nico sat  _ on  _ the desk after moving the pizza boxes to a coffee table and Vergil folded himself sullenly into an armchair. 

"So," she continued, "How are we gonna do this?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dante and Vergil POV kicked my ass. And Nico decided to be friends with Vergil for some reason. Thanks so much to everyone who left kudos and comments. I read every single one with glee! I hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: A character experiences a minor panic attack.

**Chapter 3:** **Part 1 - June 4th - Morning**

Nico stood in the deserted airport waiting room. It was a small town one, with space for only a couple of flights at a time and the only people in it were employees and a small group in matching red cross shirts. The drive here had been mostly empty except for a few eighteen-wheelers driving in the opposite direction. Anyone who wanted to leave Red Grave had booked it a month ago when the 'earthquake' happened. Everyone else was too stubborn to leave or was already dead.

It was jarring how normal it felt at this airport. It was hard to believe thousands had died in the next town less than an hour away. Nico had her eyes opened to the truth of the world years ago by her grandmother but didn't encounter a living demon until the ill-advised expedition that led her to meet Nero and Kyrie. Still, it struck her sometimes how odd the mundane world seemed after learning what lurked in the dark.

"Nico!" a voice cried behind her. She turned and found Kyrie hurrying toward her. She was so beautiful, in her practical jeans and modest top.it wasn't what Nico would wear but Kyrie was shyer about showing skin. Her wearing pants had been a huge step after the fucked up childhood she and Nero shared. They'd literally been _raised by a cult_. Neither of them seemed to really get how creepy that was and Nico knew that they had been treated well but it still gave her the willies. Instead of thinking about how shitty the world was, she buried her face against Kyrie's neck and squeezed her tight. She smelled like honeysuckle and cinnamon and it had never felt more like home.

"I missed you too!" Kyrie giggled, hugging her back.

"It's real nice to see you," she mumbled. Cupping Kyrie's face, she gave the other woman a short but heartfelt kiss,

"It's real nice to see you, sweetheart." 

Kyrie's face dimmed a bit before turning soft and loving. She gathered Nico in her arms again and squeezed, rocking her back and forth. They stood holding each other for a few minutes. Finally, Nico pulled back and wiped her eyes. Kyrie didn't even pretend that she wasn't tearing up.

"So where's Nero?" she asked.

Nico couldn't help but smirk,

"He volunteered to check the perimeter of the damaged parts of the city. Made Dante and Vergil go with him. Lady and Trish went to go look at paint and carpet samples. V went with them to get some mild exercise."

She began leading Kyrie through the airport. There were more people now but it still wasn't crowded. A few more Red Cross people had joined the first group and spilled into the parking lot. They made their way to baggage claim and collected nearly a dozen stuffed suitcases.

"Jeez, did you bring enough?" Nico griped, "How much extra did you pay for this?"

Kyrie blushed as she pulled several suitcases away from the belt to an unused corner.

"Less than I feared but more than I hoped," she admitted, "Besides, these have Nero's and your stuff in them too. I packed as many clothes and toiletries as possible and had everything else personal put into storage."

Nico stared at her,

" _Kyrie_."

Her cute face turned even redder,

"What? We all know that we're going to be here for a while. Even if all the demons left tomorrow, all of the survivors are still here. Fortuna is still recovering and it's been five years. And Nero's _family_ is here. And you can't smith without demon parts anyway."

She panted a bit but looked determined. Nico forgot sometimes how tough she was even though she looked and acted sweet and mild. But there was a reason she'd fallen in love with the deceptively gentle woman and it started with Kyrie's steel backbone. 

She sat down the last suitcase and hugged Kyrie again.

"I love you so much," she whispered into her hair, "You care so much and me and Nero would be lost without you."

"I stored everything personal," Kyrie admitted, "And told the shelter they could use the house as they needed. They said they'd help me organize shipping the rest after we found a place."

"You know I'm willing to park my wheels wherever you happen to be," Nico grinned at her, "But you might have wanted to ask Nero before you moved him out of his house."

" _Our_ house, thank you very much," Kyrie laughed, "But you know as much as I do that he wants to be here. He's been attached to Dante since they met. Discovering he was his uncle just reaffirmed a bond that already existed. And Nero spent years being pissed his parents abandoned him but Vergil _didn't even know_. "

Nico spent several minutes trying to figure out whether she could tie all the suitcases together so that they could all be pulled at once. Not all of them had wheels but if she just tied the regular ones on top-

Kyrie coughed politely next to her and presented the baggage cart she'd politely asked an employee to borrow. Nico blinked at her.

"Well, I guess that works too," she said as Kyrie giggled at her, "But it wouldn't have been as fun."

They packed the cart and rolled it outside. The parking lot had several more cars in it but it was mostly half a dozen large trucks being loaded by airport employees and Red Cross volunteers. Nico imagined they'd soon be on the road to Red Grave as well.

"It's so nice to see people helping, isn't it?" Kyrie asked.

"Yeah, but why are they only arriving now?" Nico snorted, "The 'earthquake' was over a month ago."

"I asked some friends about it," Kyrie said, "People did come out. A lot of them disappeared. That's how the military got involved. They thought that some sort of extreme group was taking advantage of the chaos."

"Probably all got eaten by demons," Nico felt Kyrie flinch, "Sorry."

"No, I know that's probably what happened. I know that's why you didn't want me to come here."

"Nero would have left me to, you know," Nico admitted, "Idiot. Suddenly fighting one-handed gave him a huge disadvantage. Without my genius arms, he would have been toast."

"Even if he can't use them anymore?" Kyrie asked.

"Yep," Nico popped her mouth, "Besides, I learned a shit ton about using demon materials in my smithing so it wasn't a total loss."

Within the next thirty minutes, they had piled the suitcases in her van and left the little airport behind. It was midmorning now so they'd be back in Red Grave by noon. Nero and the others would be demon-hunting until late in the evening but maybe she and the girls could start laying out the remodel. Dante hadn't expressed a desire to demolish the walls and completely redo the rooms but she was certain that he would cave if she convinced everyone else first.

**Chapter 3:** **Part 2 - June 4th - Midmorning**

V stared unseeing at a wall of paint cards. Greys and browns and whites. He had no idea there were so many colors. He picked one up. It was a nice pale green. It reminded him of running around the woods in pale sunlight as Shadow prowled around him, jumping forward enough to lick his face and fading into darkness again. Griffon would cackle from the trees above them and swoop down to yank at the ponytail he'd had as a child. V would laugh and keep playing until his legs betrayed him and he went home trying to hide an ugly scratch from his mother. Flora Caelestis was never fooled and would pull him close until he felt safe enough to cry. 

"You okay there, V?" Lady interrupted his musing and he jumped, "It's just me."

She was holding a bunch of paint samples as well. He resisted the urge to hide the one he'd grabbed. It's not like she knew his memories and sharing the color wasn't going to reveal anything to her. Still, he felt the little voice that insisted he keep everything secret and share nothing. It was hard not to listen to it some days even though this was the closest thing he'd had to friends since he'd been forced to leave home.

"Did you find any you liked?" he asked, trying to cover his own maudlin thoughts. Lady cheerfully showed him her colors. It was a different woman than the one that helped him defeat Urizen but V imagined demon hunting was a job that meant you found joy where you could. Honestly, V avoided demons in his work as they were often more trouble than they were worth. It was easier, safer, and more lucrative to translate esoteric texts and test experimental potions. Demon hunters and witches didn't have great reputations with each other as the former found the latter to be meddlers and the latter thought the former to be pretentious. He hadn't had an issue when revealing himself to Dante but he didn't know whether it was because Dante knew better or just didn't care. 

"The pale peach would look nice with that sort of faintly lemon carpet you liked," he said, " Why has Dante never let you remodel before? You stay at his place every time you're in town."

"We usually only stayed a couple of days," she led him down the aisle, "There was always another job. Sometimes Trish and I weren't even here together."

"That must be rough on your relationship," V stopped at a wall of blue samples, "Not seeing each other for weeks at a time." 

Lady looked surprised,

"I didn't know you knew we were together. Nero certainly doesn't."

"I learned a long time ago to be observant," he smirked, "And Nero had to be told that he was related to the only other two people that shared his unique hair color."

"Really?" she said, "I assumed he knew and just didn't care. He was already nineteen when he met Dante. Same age as Vergil was when he was born, actually."

"Really?"

They wandered through another aisle of swatches and into a third full of actual paint supplies.

"Where did Trish go?" he asked, "She was over here ten minutes ago." 

"She went to grab a bunch of cheap towels and sheets and things. There are way too many people for the three sets we had and the spare set Nico had. And none of the individual bathrooms except ours and Dante's have towels."

"I suspect most of the bedding will get thrown away," he said, "Nico said hers were mostly holes and you had all put her spare set on mine."

He paused for a moment and bit his lip. On one hand, being carried to bed after someone else cleaned his room made him chafe at the lack of independence and embarrassed that he couldn't do it himself. On the other hand, he was profoundly grateful they hadn't left him to sleep in the van because the seats would have almost certainly left him in too much pain to move the next day.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "For taking care of me. I'm not sure I would have had the strength to wake up let alone help."

Lady frowned at him,

"First rule of demon hunting is that you take care of your partners. Sometimes that's watching their back in battle and sometimes it means dragging them to bed so they can sleep off a bad fight."

V leaned in, eyes lighting up with mischief,

"And the ones you don't like?"

She laughed but her tone was all serious,

"Then they aren't partners. You don't work with people you don't trust. That gets you killed."

"It's why we were so surprised to see Dante with you," Trish said, appearing abruptly on his other side. He jumped and felt his cane skid on the tile floor but the women righted him before he could fall on his ass for what felt like the thousand time in the last week.

"Careful there," Trish patted his shoulder, "Don't they make those rubber ends to keep canes from sliding?"

"Yes," he moved out from between them so he didn't feel quite as surrounded, "And I removed mine so I could stab demons properly. It's in my apartment with the rest of my things."

Both the older women frowned at him but didn't comment. Trish was holding seven plastic bags in one hand, each one stuffed full of cloth. Lady tucked the paint sample cards into her jeans and grabbed a couple from her partner. All three of them were dressed much more normally today than they had been. Trish still had her normal crop top on but had a blouse on over it. Lady wasn't wearing the huge bulky jacket that usually carried her gear. V was pretty sure he was wearing one of Nero's shirts.

The thought made something stir in his belly that he chose to ignore. Nero was a bit wider then he was even if he was the slightest bit taller so he'd ended up tucking the shirt into his pants so it wouldn't slide all over when he walked. Nico threw it at him this morning asking him why he chose to wear 'that corset-looking thing' that exposed half his skin. He'd chosen not to remark on her short shorts and taken the question seriously.

"It's quicker to summon my familiars if they can float directly off instead of having to travel through cloth," he told her.

"Really?" she'd snorted, "I just assumed you had a leather kink."

He remembered turning red and fleeing her presence where he'd caught Trish and Lady leaving and asked to tag along.

He told himself it was to stretch his legs and not because the thought of Nero seeing him in his shirt made his throat dry.

"Earth to V!" Trish tapped his forehead. He was really tired of getting startled by the two ladies.

"You in there?" she asked.

"Yes, sorry," he mumbled, "Just letting my thoughts get away from me."

"Yeah, it's been a rough few days," Lady mumbled, "But it's over now! Who wants brunch?"

"I do," Trish smiled at her, "I got a text from Nico that promises to be quite fun."

**Chapter 3:** **Part 3 - June 4th - Afternoon**

Nero swung Red Queen directly into the face of the ugly Empusa that was screaming at him. It screeched and disintegrated into red orbs that he felt absorb into his own aura. It was a weird sensation that he didn't think he would ever get used to but it remained the only sure method of increasing and maintaining his power. Dante had taught him to do it after Fortuna.

"It lets you survive, kid," he'd said, "Lets you fight harder and faster and longer. Use demons to fight demons and you'll never find the limits of your power."

At the time, he'd been too heartbroken by the Order's betrayal to question _why_ he could do it. Just another secret the Order kept from him. It was only now, after learning the truth, that he realized that it was his demon blood that let him absorb that power. The demon blood that flowed through him and Dante and Vergil.

He thrust his arm out to pull himself toward his next target before remembering _he couldn't do that_. For one heart-stopping second, he couldn't think what he could do next. Even when he'd lost the arm itself, he could still use it to pull enemies. Combined with Nico's various Devil Breakers, he was a walking arsenal.

Was having an ordinary hand worth the loss of a vital part of his fighting technique?

Another Empusa roared, scuttling toward him and he swung his arm around again. A sensation like plunging his forearm in cold water shocked him as his arm turned blue and Punch Line fazed into existence where his hand had been. He blinked in shock at it for a moment before letting it loose on the Empusa. Within seconds, the demon was beaten black and blue and fading out of existence.

"Huh," Dante huffed, falling out of the sky and sliding to a stop next to him, "Didn't know you could still use those."

"Me neither," he said in the sudden silence. The last of the scattered group of demons they'd found seemed to have been vanquished. Dante stood up, dusting himself off. His sword flickered and sheathed itself on his back.

"That was fun," he grinned, "Where next, fearless nephew?"

Nero tried hard not to flinch. It was hard not to be mad at Dante for never telling him. He'd had literal years to claim Nero as family and never bothered. He probably wouldn't have ever told him if Vergil hadn't come up and Nero wanted to punch him for it. What right did Dante have to withhold his father from him? Even if Vergil was an ass and even if he had been truly dead, Nero had always had a right to know.

Why bring it up now?

His question was answered in a sickening way as Vergil came around some crumbled building debris next to them. He was frowning slightly and glaring daggers at Dante.

Nero felt his blood boil.

He should ignore it. Deal with it later. Scattered demons were crawling out of the rubble of the destroyed parts of the city and they would only get bolder as time passed. There were too many other things to do.

"Don't use it like that," he snapped instead. Dante gave him that indulgent smirk he always used when he felt Nero was being childish. Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"You had five years to claim a familial connection," he glared at them both, "You don't get to use it now just so you can mess with your brother."

A brief flash of pain crossed Dante’s expression before it smoothed out into his customary smirk. He didn’t know if the older man was embarrassed to be caught or if Nero’s words had actually hurt but the young devil hunter was too mad to care. The bitter knot of emotions that he’d been choking on since the Qliphoth bubbled under his skin. 

“Yes,” Virgil said in a deceptively mild tone, “Why not tell him if you knew? It’s his legacy as well.”

Nero didn’t know why Virgil had decided to enter the conversation but he was certain that the man wanted a chance to throw his own barbs at Dante. He held back a sigh. They had to stop doing this or no one would be getting anywhere. In the next second, it was clear that Dante had had enough. Or maybe he just didn't want to answer hard emotional questions. Too bad he was too emotional to realize he already was.

“What legacy?” he snapped at his brother, “The legacy of a burnt house and shit childhood and the never-ending fight with demons desperate to consume you for someone else’s power? The less he knew, the safer he was! Do you think I wanted to pretend that my brother’s son was no relation of mine? But he didn’t deserve to be dragged down by our shit or Sparda’s shit!”

“Wait, wait!” Nero interrupted them before they started fighting, “What does Sparda have to do with this?”

Both brothers blinked at him for a dumbfounded moment. Then they eyed each other, expressions flickering through what was very obviously a silent conversation. On the one hand, Nero found a glimpse of their sibling bond heartening but he was also very annoyed now.

“What,” he grit his teeth, “Does the Order’s fucking saint have to do with this?”

Dante gestured with his hands and Virgil rolled his eyes,

“The Order’s idea of Sparda is flawed. They think him a saint when he was, in fact, a demon himself.”

“I _know_ that,” Nero _did not_ whine, “But what does that have to do with us?”

Virgil continued to glare at Dante. There was clearly something else here that he felt Dante should have told him but Dante clearly didn’t want to say it, probably for the same reasons he’d accidentally revealed earlier. 

Nero was so tired of secrets.

“Please,” he said quietly in the tense silence. Dante didn’t look at him but Virgil had had enough.

“The Legendary Demon Sparda was our father,” he said, “After defeating Mundus, he sealed most of his power so he could stay in the human world. Centuries later, he met and married our mother. You’re his grandson.”

“Huh,” Nero mumbled, pressure building in his ears. He felt numb and like he couldn’t breathe.

_Imagine if the Order had known that._

Someone gripped his shoulders and he heard Dante start speaking but it sounded oddly muffled and far away.

“This is why I didn’t tell him! He already had enough Sparda related bullshit from the Order! I knew he wouldn’t take it well.”

Something pushed him down to sit and he went willingly. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to resist if he wanted to. Dante was still yelling angrily but Nero couldn’t hear what he was saying. 

“ **Breath** ,” someone said harshly in his ear, pushing his head down between his knees, “ **In...out. In...out**.”

They continued for what felt like hours but could have only been a few minutes. Dante had stopped talking and when Nero became aware enough to take note of his surroundings, he found himself seated on a pile of rubble. Virgil crouched stone-faced in front of him while Dante hovered over his brother’s shoulder. Nero stared at them both, struck by how genuine the moment felt. This was what he had with Nico and Kyrie. This is what he wanted with his father and his uncle and V and even Lady and Trish, who’d all proven themselves amazing people. They were all damaged from life but there was nothing like taking your broken pieces and fitting them with other people's broken parts to make a scarred but complete whole.

_Family._

He swallowed back a sob. Neither of the men in front of him would know how to deal with him crying. He was surprised Virgil had known how to help him when he panicked but he remembered V’s quiet confession.

_Your father has no shortage of trauma._

It was clear both men were used to suppressing their emotions and expressing them only in anger, no matter how different their forms of anger were. Dante burned hot and Virgil simmered cold but he knew enough to know they’d both grown up angry and alone. Nero was determined to drag them both into the family he’d made growing up when he was alone.

Whether they wanted it or not.

“Tell me again,” he met both of their eyes, “Tell me the real history of Sparda.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little short but I'm tired of struggling with it. The last scene turned into something way different. I don't actually recall whether Nero knows Dante is related to Sparda but we're going to pretend he doesn't!

**Author's Note:**

> A timeline of DMC and everyone's age (as of the beginning of chapter 1) and birthdays. Dante/Vergil's are the release date of DMC1 and Neros' is DMC4 but the rest are just randomly generated. 
> 
> DMC5 - 2019 I DMC4 - 2014 I DMC2 - 2009 I DMC1 - 2004 I DMC3 - 1995  
> \-----  
> Dante & Virgil - 42 (Aug 23rd,1976) I Nero - 24 (Jan 31st, 1995) I V - 24 (Nov 23rd, 1994) I Lady - 38 (July 7th, 1981) I Trish - 39 (May 10th, 1980) I Nico - 21 (Oct 30th, 1997) I Kyrie - 23 (March 15th, 1996)


End file.
